The Ivories
by dosei no otohime
Summary: Heero must travel to California to save his sanity. But can he ever face the smile of the piano again, after all that he's realized? ...::Angst overload. AU. Erratic couplings (you'll know what I mean.) POV changes::...
1. Chapter 1: Heero Yuy

The Ivories  
  
  
  
Heero Yuy  
  
  
  
The stage was silent. They were silent. The stilled eyes watched me as if they were held inside a corpse's skull. My hands could dance and still it would be without sound. The strings would pull, the hammers would fall but still.  
  
But I played on, though the true soul could not be heard. The melody was distant to these people, untouchable and slippery to their skin. I pounded furiously against the contrasting keys with such force that it drove a gasp from the lungs of a single audience member. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw her, the one who drew her breath. Platinum blonde with what seemed to be violet eyes. That was all I could tell without detaching myself from my work. I put my focus back onto the work at hand.  
  
I withdrew my fingers from the keys and straightened my back. The audience surrounding me exploded into applause. I looked to the crowd. A thousand people were clapping their palms together in my praise. I sighed. What had the fame done to me? The song that I had just played would never be as excellent as my first or as sorrowful as my life's finale. I stood from the piano's bench and left my stage. I knew that my departure without a bow of courtesy would cause discomfort in the crowd but I felt no life or pride flowing from the music I had played.  
  
The area behind the stage was dark and quiet, perfect for thinking. I let my back lean against the brick wall, cool with the night. No one was there, not even my fiancé was there. Quiet and perfect.  
  
I stared down at my hands, those gifted additions, which were glowing pale in the moonlight. or maybe it was the remaining stage light. I would never look up to verify my doubts. Were they dirty, my hands? Had they committed a crime in searching for their fame? I asked my conscience only. I could not ask such questions of my fellow man for fear of being said to have a malady of the mind, and for the fear of losing my dearest, my Catherine. They would tear my hands from love's embrace and then break my arms to splinters.  
  
"Darling.?"  
  
The lone voice did not startle me. I returned my arms to my side then closed my eyes to breathe a sigh. A hand was placed on my shoulder. I could feel the coolness of the ring through my shirt. I turned. Fair skin, auburn hair, lips pouted in concern for me. I gave her a reassuring smile and touched her cheek. "Yes?" my voice came out with less bravery than I intended, but it would do. "You left them without your finale for tonight, dear," she said. I could feel the concern rising from her in body language and voice. I pulled my hand away from her cheek. I knew that this withdrawal would cause upset, but my hand felt suddenly icy, too cold to touch her warmth. To her statement, I shrugged. "I didn't feel up to it," I said. Her face lifted and fell in understanding. It was then that my moonlight was revealed as true. The glow was too natural to be from the stage. Her lips turned up in a small smile, a sign that she would love me no matter the hardship of containing me.  
  
"Come on Heero. Let's go back."  
  
And I followed, so to relieve my depression and welcome the distorted reverie of dreams.  
  
The hotel that we to retire to was more than elegant. The walls gleamed with gold trim, crystals, and pearly paint. "Isn't it beautiful, love?" I whispered drawing Catherine closer to my side. She nodded in agreement, looking about the room in fascination. We had been to plenty of large hotels together, but none nearly as magnificent as the one we looked upon. Then I saw it. I gasped at its beauty, and my feet stopped moving. Sleek black skin, white keys.  
  
"Like it, do you?"  
  
I looked back at my fiancé. She gave me a knowing smile. I returned it. "Yes, it's very beautiful." I said. Her smile grew a little. "Heero Yuy!" came a deep voiced person. My head turned suddenly. A man of maybe twenty- seven, just five years older than myself, came bumbling up to us. His hair was long and almost white, like the young girl at the concert, and his eyes were an iced blue color, lighter than my own, but they seemed a little bloodshot. It was very clear and obvious. the man was drunk.  
  
He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close to his face. The scents of at least three expensive wines swirled around my nostrils. I turned my head. "Heyyyy! You are that Heero Yuy kid!" he replied with a burst of giddy laughter attached to the end. I tensed in his hold. I resented being called "kid." I pulled from his flimsy grip. "Excuse me sir." I said softly as I freed myself. He resumed his squealing laughter. I looped my arm around Catherine's. "Let's go," I said, pulling her with me. We went on our way past these strangers and the drunken man again, who persisted on bothering us. The security had to be called to assist him to his room. "Now, Mr. Peacecraft, we don't want any trouble. like last time. Come up to your room and you can have a nice nap." I heard one of the guards say in a soft voice. I didn't hold the annoyance against the man, he wasn't in control of himself. The drunken man produced a wide smile. "Okay." he said. He held out his arm, fingers dangling limply in the air. "Lead me!" he said loudly. Obedient, one of the guards took his arm, the other man steadying his back. He was pushed quickly down one of the halls on the opposite of our room. Catherine and I turned down our own hallway, and then took a trip up the stairs to our room.  
  
We undressed and got into bed without words. The cocoon of blankets and the embrace of arms were comforting. I felt her face move for words to come through lips. "Goodnight darling." she murmured. My pause was unsettlingly long. But I did turn to her. I stared at her through the darkness, knowing that she couldn't see my face. I leaned forward just a little and kissed her cheek.  
  
"Sweet dreams, my love."  
  
I pulled the cover over my shoulder and closed my eyes. Just before sleep took me, I felt the slightest touch on my cheek. "I love you." said a voice in the night. I smiled a reply then fell into a void of slumber.  
  
I awoke abruptly. The darkness instantly pulled me to reality from my web of nightmares. It wasn't long before my body took itself away from the dream world also. I could feel the blankets resting warmly over my body. Beside me, was my love, sleeping peacefully. I was relieved that I hadn't disturbed her, for I was tangled like an old locust tree's branches in the bed, truly haunting. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I wasn't surprised at my ill maintained hours of sleep. I usually didn't rest well outside the walls of my own home. I curled my toes around the hotel carpet, the color of which I had barely noticed until then. Maroon. It was maroon. The moonlight masked nearly, but I could still tell. I wondered why it mattered. Why did the color of such a small thing make such a difference? I had no answer.  
  
I sat there a few minutes. It may have been seconds. I could not be sure. But the thoughts of losing everything had not occurred to me until this dark hour of the morning. Do they really love my music? Or was it just me? I had been told many a time that I was a handsome young fellow, not that it made me feel any better, but it made me think. Was everyone there because I had money? I grimaced. These awful thoughts shouldn't intrude so early in the morning, I thought. Then I remembered the piano, the one in the main hall of this large estate. It had been beautiful, looking nearly unspoiled as it shone under the chandeliers of this hotel set somewhere in California. It would be marvelous to play, I thought. My fingers tingled for the touch of cool keys and ached at the chance to play. And so I chose to go. Careful not to wake my love, I slid from beneath the comforter and left my sleeping princess to her dreams.  
  
The rest of the hotel was as gloomy as the stage of few hours passed. My steps echoed across the large room, even though they were worn bare to prevent the noisy click of shoes on tiles. There it was, guiding me to it like a lighthouse would. The polished black wood still gleamed. I stepped to it, careful of any hidden velvet rope that tended to be unseen when such beauty was confronted. I pulled out the bench, loud for the hour. I stared at the keys. I knew them by heart and could play them blindly, but could I really play them now? I positioned my hands over the keys, closed my ears to the rest of the world, and closed my eyes to the vision of the struggle to see. I was ready.  
  
First came a classic, a piece by Beethoven, the title I failed to remember at the time but my memory of the notes was not at fault. Next came Fur Elise, a particular favorite of mine. I poured out the notes, my fingers gliding across the keys. The song was played loudly, a volume that would surely interrupt the sleep of any normal human being. But I was surprised that no person came to throw a slipper in the direction of both piano and my head. Content, I was, while sitting there. There were no corpse's eyes staring back, no false melodies.  
  
When done, I stood to receive my warm bed with finally tired eyes. I smiled as I ascended the stairs.  
  
My finale had been complete. 


	2. Chapter 2: Duo Maxwell

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The Ivories

Duo Maxwell

With a yawn, I opened my eyes. Sleepily, my gaze turned towards my digital clock. The number materialized and I let out a groan of my exhaustion and let my head fall back on the pillow. As usual, the time teller read off a distinct number, 4:30…. in the morning. I never liked the hour that I woke up to every morning. But still I rose from my resting place of blankets and pillows and the fading prints of dreams. 

I stretched, not bothering to switch the light on inside my bedroom, only the one to the bathroom. The white room glared back at me, hurting my sensitive pupils. A zombie stared back at me through droopy eyelids among sloppy bangs. I swept my braid around to the front of my body and pulled out the band that held it, careful not to ravage the ends. With my long hair unraveled, I made sure there was a towel hanging on the rack, since a very remembered encounter with a cold winter morning with the heat turned off. The image of myself running through my apartment cold, wet, and naked would have seemed funny to anyone else. I removed the few clothes I had and stepped in the shower. I turned a knob and heard the water coming through the pipes. Though my mind seemed halfway under control, my body seemed to be very disconnected. The temperature of the water caused me to scream and climb out of the way of the stream. Carefully I wound my arm around, avoiding the ice water. I shut it off. Almost traumatized from the water, I stepped out of the shower. I could put off the shower until the evening, when I would be fully awake. I went to find clothing.

This small task turned out to be an Indiana Jones type adventure. Though I was not being chased down passageways in the jungle, I _was_ trying to tear out a grey sweater from beneath a tall stack of shoeboxes. I wasn't sure when exactly I had worn the sweater last, but I knew it had to be over two years. I didn't even remember having this sweater! But I managed to find a pair of underwear, unmatching socks and a pair of jeans, which came from the depths under my bed. I shook my head. It was amazing she kept a relationship with a slob like me. A smile crept to my face. Lucrezia, my girlfriend of nearly a year, was loyal to the end. That's the reason I loved the girl.

Outside it was cold… and the bus was late, since it usually came by 5:30. I used the extra time to braid my long hair. A man came up and stood beside me, to wait for the bus too I assumed. He seemed to be forty-five. The flesh of his forehead was swallowing his hairline, splashes of silver in the chocolate brown tresses. He breathed in deeply then exhaled, steam pouring from his nose. "Gotta love that New England weather…." he said with a smile. I raised an eyebrow. What was he talking about? I was freezing! "Yeah," I said almost sarcastically, glancing down the street to see if the bus was coming. It didn't seem to be. I cocked my head to the side. There was no bass rumble of motor coming from the direction it would be from. I sighed and began walking, the chilled blue jeans slipping across my leg as I did. It wasn't far walking to my store. I was just lazy on most mornings.

But on really cold mornings in Vermont, walking always seemed longer. I shivered and reached up to touch my hair. It was starting to frost over with the short morning shower I had. "This has got to be the worst…" my wisecrack was interrupted by a thick rumble coming down the street. I knew what it was. I rolled my eyes. "It's getting worse…." I groaned. Then the bus passed me, whipping the wind around my body. I nearly convulsed with the chill. But I saw the unlit neon sign for my shop. The last few steps seemed to move faster.

I pulled the keys from my pocket and shoved them into the lock, turned them and pushed open the door. The familiar clang of a bell on glass filled the air. I turned and flipped around the sign that determined whether the shop was open. Unmasked super heroes and magical girls stared back at me from their two-dimensional cages of color. I opened the closet door and pulled a box out. I set it on the check out counter and opened it, pulling the new editions out by series. Then I shivered and turned away from this task to turn on the heater. The thing rumbled a bit first and then it let out a stream of warm air. I held my hands over it, turning them as the tingle became too much and my fingers turned pink.

And then I waited, reading a new edition of some Japanese comic as I did. It came daily, almost the same time every day. 

The bells chimed the entrance of someone.

I smiled. She was back.

"How are you this morning Relena?" I asked her. She blinked. "Huh?" she asked and then pulled the fluffy purple earmuffs from her head, shaking her many braids all around her face. The cold always brought out the best in her features, giving her rosy cheeks and clear blue eyes. She was kinda cute, for a kid anyway. The dreadlocks were a bit much, though. 

She pulled at her beanie hat, making sure to cover the tips of her ears. "Say that again Duo?" she said as she stuffed her hands inside the kangaroo pouch on her shirt. I laughed. "I asked how you were this fine and glorious summer morning, Lena," I said. She rolled her eyes. "Summer my ass. It's September, Duo," she cracked, "September plus Vermont equals freezing-my-ass-off weather, man." I laughed. 

"So," she said, changing the subject, "got any new Spiderman issues?"

I smiled and reached my hand into the box that lay open on the checkout counter. "Yep, they just arrived this morning. Issue #55, mint condition and not. Want one of each, Lena?" I asked, flashing the blue and red clad hero in front of her eyes. Her hand shifted in her pocket and she licked her lips decisively.

"Not. I'll buy the mint later this week, when I've got a few more bucks." 

We exchanged dollars for comic. Then I glanced at my watch. "Lena, you better run. It's almost time for school, chica," I warned her. She jumped in fright at the thought of being late for school, making her blue eyes widen prettily. "You're right! Gotta scoot, Duo! See ya tomorrow!" she said with a wave and headed out the door, slipping on her fluffy earmuffs and then breaking into a run. 

I had settled back into my chair and begun reading again, when the phone rang.

"Hello? Duo's Comics… oh, hi Hilde. No, no, I didn't mean it that way… haha. Eh… oh! You had the baby already? I thought you said it was due later… oh, okay. Too bad he left you, but he was a bastard anyway. I'm an expert in the field of revenge, you know. Oh, hahah… yeah. You want me to come down? Hilde, you know you're my favorite cousin, but babies and me just don't mix well together. How bad? Well, we mix as well as lithium and water… or whatever that stuff is that blows up when it touches water. Well… all right. But I'm not sticking around for the night shift, got it, cuz? I think I can make to California Saturday if I start Friday. Ok, I'll tell her you said hi. Bye Hilde."

And then I hung up.


	3. Chapter 3: Heero Yuy

****

The Ivories

Heero Yuy

I opened my eyes slowly, the morning warm against my lids. I knew it was late. It felt like it was so. How long had I played the piano in the darkness? It had been maybe 5am when I stopped. The sun had just been rising from the valley when I had settled into the bed's comfort again. I reached across the bed, felt nothing and tried to wake myself up. I focused my blurry eyes upon the place where Catherine had slept. Empty. But the place was still warm to the touch. Then I heard the constant sound made by rushing water falling on tiles. She was showering, and hadn't left my side for long. I was glad that she hadn't started downstairs without me. Somehow, the thought of being alone seemed… frightening. I shook the misinterpretation off me. I didn't like this feeling clinging to me. It wasn't the proper attire for the presence of love's beauty held within a human's vessel. It wasn't appropriate for her.

For the second time that morning, I put my bare feet on the hotel's floor and sighed. There was something I had to do today… something that was nagging the very back of my mind. I was sitting on the bed, trying to relive my hours of the day previous and where I had planned my path for the present when I heard the tumblers of a door and then soft footsteps. These sounds didn't seem to penetrate my thought process, though, so I never really registered them. There was a small moment of silence before her voice rang forth. "Today is free," she said. I looked up. She was fluffing her fiery hair dry, towel wrapped tightly around her body, while she read my face. I smiled, trying to cover the little dance the blood was having in my cheeks. But she knew I was still worried about the chance that she might be wrong. "I've made sure you had a day without worry. You've seemed a bit stressed lately, my dear," she pulled the towel away from her hair and reached for her brush. I was watching the long strokes. It was the same way she painted portraits, the way she brushed her hair. Her strong hands would move so gently… in waves…

My fingers held that familiar ache again. I pulled my fingers into a fist and released them, maybe to relieve this pressure, but they just tingled for the want. What was wrong with me? Night and day I felt the throb in my fingers, yet I hated to play now. The fame had ruined the art…

I felt something on my shoulder and looked up. Catherine was poking me with her hairbrush. "It's your turn for the shower," she said and took the brush back up to her head. I stood up and made my way to the bathroom. When I got to the door, I slipped off my pajama shirt and opened the door. Then something occurred to me. I turned back to her. "Catherine, what time is it?" I asked. She frowned at this. Her face was strong, but it faltered just enough for me to notice. She didn't like that my life now revolved around dates and times. But still, she gave in to the question. "It's almost nine," she said. 

The shower was refreshing, enough to wake me, but not enough to rescue me from my mood. It seemed so empty, something did. I put a hand on my forehead, the shampoo spilling over my skin, and leaned against the wall, letting the warm water run wasted down the drain. What was bringing me down? I rinsed my hair quickly and washed off the remainder of soap from my body. Finished, I pushed the curtain from my way and stepped out of the shower. While wiping myself dry, I saw another person in there with me. I didn't cry out in alarm, nor shoo the poor devil away, I just took in the site. Youth ravaged. Blue eyes were nearly sunken into his flesh. The sensual lips were formed in a sad frown but the person had soft pretty hands. I glared at the person and he glared back. It was me. It had always been me in the mirror staring back at myself through tired eyes. "I grow tired of you," I said as if the reflection were another person entirely. The words were mouthed back, but silenced in their turn. Ah, so the feeling was mutual between us. This muted character, this shell, and I hated each other. And that was that. I turned away, nearly sure the reflection had stayed in place, as if it had never belonged to me, and was mocking me with silent laughter. I was sure it was pointing its pretty finger at me with giggles and convulsive laughter. But I would never look up to make sure of its betrayal.

Fully clothed, minus a dress shirt, I stretched out on the bed. Catherine sat on the edge beside me, looking down with her deep eyes, the eyes in which I could lose myself endlessly. "Tired, darling?" she asked before leaning down to kiss my forehead. I nodded. It was the truth, especially when I had been up playing my forte until five. She smiled. "Well, I know what can get up!" she said with a giggle. She stood up, taking my hands and pulling me up with her. "First, we'll have a little coffee… and then we'll have the best darn ice cream you've ever tasted!" she smiled broadly. I looked at her… trying to foresee where I was going this morning. 

"Trowa's here…?"

She laughed at my surprise. "Of course! My big brother always thinks ahead, doesn't he? He moved here last March and since his injury, he's been selling ice cream. How about it?" she tickled under my chin with one finger, "Its homemade… best ice cream in the world," she said, tempting me. I smiled. "Sure, why not?" I said. She returned the smile. "Well, then get on a T-shirt and let's go!" she exclaimed, breaking her hands away from mine and dancing a little in the room. I watched her as she spun. So graceful and full of life she was…

A little while later, we were walking down the concrete sidewalk of the park, headed towards a small white stand. We had been talking of the autumn colors in the park when Catherine turned and put her finger to her lips, signaling my silence. She tiptoed towards the stand where she knew her brother worked. Then she jumped out in front of it suddenly, red hair whirling like January embers and shirt rippling in the passing air.

"Hey big brother! I want a triple with sprinkles, syrup, whipped cream, and a cherry on top!"

She had jumped so quickly and said the words so fast, that a chocolate topped cone was sent falling towards the ground. She giggled and then reached around the side and pulled me out in front to see the chaos she had spun around her dear brother. He had an expression that seemed the crossbreed between surprise, frustration, and being happy, and shocked, to see his sister. Then his features brightened suddenly. "Never would've guessed!" he exclaimed with a smile on his lips, the expression identical to hers but more masculine. He pulled out something from beneath the counter and hung it out on front. "Out to lunch" it read in goofy letters, obviously hand-painted. He then closed the window and stepped out from behind the counter. He wrapped his arm around Catherine. "Hey Cathy! How's my little sis?" he asked, emerald eyes gazing down with the shine of life.

"I'm doing good. How's Sally?"

"Dealing… we have a four year old girl remember?"

Catherine giggled. "Yes, Maia… I remember that red-headed cutie well," she said, "We're here on Heero's tour and we'll be in town a few days."

"How many?"

"Maybe three. It really depends on how anxious Heero's manager is about starting it up again."

Trowa turned to me, and I felt the pressure for words building up inside my abdomen. 

"So how have you been Heero?"

"Good."

"Have you been giving my Cathy all the sugar she can down? She's got a real sweet tooth you know…"

At this, Catherine gave him a small elbow in the side and I smiled. Now, they both looked at me… probing me. 

"Do you feel okay Heero? You look a bit sluggish…"

"I'm fine," I said, dismissing this. I was tired, that was all. It was just like Catherine had said and had been brought upon by late night piano playing in the hotel lobby. It wasn't anything more. How could it be?

"You sure?"

I nodded. I wasn't even sure who had spoken it this time. I looked around me, not any of it seemed real anymore. It looked like a surreal painting…

Like dripping, fading, watercolors that gathered with the dark brush…

Like the end and beginning of it all, pushed together to produce one entity…


End file.
